The Altar's Coin
by slyprentice
Summary: One simple decision can be like the flap of a butterfly's wing in time.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: The Altar's Coin  
**Author**: Prentice  
**Rating**: Teen  
**Pairing**: DG/WC  
**Feedback**: is very much appreciated.  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own. No infringement intended. No money made.  
**Author's Notes**: I'm churning out stories at an alarming rate lately so please be patient for updates. I've a lot on my plate.  
**Story Notes**: This story spans, quite literally, decades of Ozian time, starting a few months before DGs born to wherever the end may take us. Please be aware that this is based solely on Tin Man, with inspiration drawn very lightly from other sources.

**Summary**: One simple decision can be like the flap of a butterfly's wing in time.

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**The Altar's Coin**  
by Prentice

Prologue

Queen Lavender Gayle stared silently out the window; a hand curled protectively against the gentle swell of her growing stomach, and resisted the urge to call the man behind her a liar. It would do neither of them good and serve only to further prove what she feared most to be true of him: that what he spoke was truth. A great and powerful terrible truth.

"How can this be possible?" She implored quietly, eyes flashing with confusion and fear as she turned towards him. "How can you know what you saw might come to pass and is not just a glimmer, a possibility, of the future?"

"That it is a possibility," the man murmured, words like smoke and sinew between them, "is enough to make even the wisest of men be cautious, my Queen."

Inclining her head, Queen Lavender swallowed thickly, dark curls spilling over her shoulder in a tumbling mass, eyes turning once again to search the darkness beyond the window of her room. Fear crawled through her veins, the white hot rush of it making something inside of her click and coil, the deep well of her magick bubbling and swirling, encasing the baby in her womb with love and affection even as she knew it wouldn't be enough. It _wouldn't_ be _enough_.

"I love my child," she whispered, hand rubbing tenderly against the silken clothe covering the growing bump of her unborn daughter. That it was a daughter shining inside of her, she had no doubt. Fore Gayle women always mothered daughters, never sons, to the world of Oz, thus ensuring the power that Dorothy Gayle, the first of their kind to step through the veil from The Other Side, had born in their veins was to be passed to other's like her. Even now, Queen Lavender could feel the Light pulsing inside her, pouring into her child, her angel, her impossible miracle.

"I love my child," she repeated again, voice soft but firm as she turned back to the mystical man listening behind her. His eyes were like deep swirling pools, staring into her with a power that even she couldn't comprehend. "And now you ask me to give her up, to give her away, to an unknown future, an unknown fate? How can you, Wizard, how can you?"

For long soundless minutes, the two stared at one another, their magick thick and twirling, like ribbons in the wind on a warm summer's day. _How, _Queen Lavender's eyes beseeched, _how can you ask this of me? To lose my miracle, my angel, my gift, before she is even mine, how can you ask?_

But her silent pleads are there in vain, pointlessly tormenting them both with a request of damning kindness. The Mystic Man has never lied and even for she, Queen of Oz, would he not break that promise and bond of truth. Closing her eyes, Queen Lavender wept, for her self, for her child, and for the man that would never know her daughter's smiles.

But most especially, she wept for Oz, fore after today, it would never be the same.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: (1) In reality, this is a continuation of the prologue and as such, shouldn't be called chapter one; however, it was important to separate these two sections to drive home the importance and significance of what just passed between the Queen and the Mystic Man.

(2) This chapter is based a few weeks after the events of the prologue, which may not be clear in this section so just be aware.

(3) I want to thank Bee, Onora, and shaid for reviewing. Feedback is a writers lifeblood and I can't thank you enough for taking the time! :)

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**Chapter 1**

Wyatt Cain leaned tiredly against the wall; chin tucked neatly against his chest, the brim of his hat bathing his face in murky shadows. Pale streams of dawning Ozian sunlight shown in the air, cresting neatly over the tips of mountains beyond the walls of Central City; the beams lightening the dark sky to a deep sapphire blue that was slowly fading to shades of pink and purple as the twin suns rose. Soon the crystalline rays would fully ascend and spill over the cities' walls, making them sparkle and shine.

Fighting back a yawn, Wyatt blinked, fingers smoothing over the soft shaped wood held securely in his grip, knife balanced easily in his palm. The half-formed figure was roughly shaped, its ends pointed jaggedly with deep gouges along the sides where the wood had meet knife. Roughness apart, the young man could see the figure in his mind, finished and complete, 

sanded smooth and painted, clutched in his hand like the gift he hoped it would be. A few more strokes, some careful whittling, and it would be there, ready for sand, paint and polish.

Closing his fist around the tender wooden form, Wyatt allowed a gentle smile to tug at his lips, other hand deftly sheathing the small knife he held even as a burning wave of exhaustion battered at his eyelids. A few more hours and he would be off duty, free to wander the city in search of his bed and leave the watchmen duties of a Central City Tin Man to someone else for a few short hours. Smile growing, he closed his eyes. Perhaps he would dream when he slept, perhaps he would do more than dream.

Slipping the figure inside his pocket, close to his heart and his shinning metal badge, the Tin Man fought another yawn, tired tears welling in his eyes as he blinked them open. Central City watchman duties had always been a little boring, especially of late, but there were certainly worse jobs; like monitoring the back streets of the Down-Below, an area that tended to house some of the seedier joints the metropolis had to offer. A fact that Wyatt knew personally, thanks to years on the Mystic Man's personal guard detail, being the man's eyes and ears while venturing into the chaotic dizzying grind of the lower D-B, on missions he could hardly understand but carried out without question.

Shifting on his feel, long coat swaying in the breeze, Wyatt brushed the tired tears aside, scrubbing lightly at his morning stubble. There was no doubt that the Down-Below gave depravity and corruption a life of it's own and not even the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz could see into its depths without the aid of his Tin Men, the watchman of Central City and appointed guardians of the land of Oz. Not even the Queen's Zeroes, the specialized brand of men that made up the small militia that would fight for Queen and country, could boast so much.

Another shift and the blonde sighed, eyes drifting to the misty tree line. The old brick route – a pathway that any Ozian knew – spilled out from its depth, the worn yellow bricks vivid in the dewy light of dawn. Travelers of all breeds trekked that road to come and go from Central City to make their fortunes or buy supplies. Troubadours, magicians, performers, medicine men, and even farmers came from miles around to see the Shinning City on the Hill. Some for pleasure and some for work, all of them wanting to be part of the growing prosperity that poured from the arms of the royal family and the always powerful Mystic Man, who opened his doors to questions and answers, hoping to enlighten a new age.

The road was empty now, a rare occurrence, but one that Wyatt couldn't help but be thankful for. Weary exhaustion notwithstanding, his mind was filled, a warm bubble of happiness growing in his gut and leaking into his veins. The deep smoldering burn of something extraordinary frizzled in his heart and the smile that ached to spread across his mouth and sparkle in his eyes was pushed back, pushed down.

He still had watchman duties and though his heart throbbed to give in to his baser needs, he would have to wait. Wait and watch and later he would sleep and then…and then…

He would see…_her. _

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_Additions: _

(1) _Before anyone scolds me that Zero is a character, not a name of a guard or anything else, I'm taking writers liberty and changing that. The reason why will, of course, become clear over time. _

_(2) The Down-Below is not a part of the realm of the unwanted. It's a part of Central City that would be similar to the red light district but much, much worse. It's not in Tin Man so it's all my own creation. I hope you don't mind ;P_


End file.
